Mercy
Winky offered Alina to take her upstairs to the small bedroom or the master bedroom, but Alina refused. She wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place. Although invading Professor Snape’s bedroom couldn’t possibly make the situation any worse than it already was, she decided to stay in the living room. At least she knew that room, had been there before—and she really liked it, all those books, the battered armchairs and sagging sofa.
She curled up on one of the armchairs and inhaled deeply. Leather, smoke, as if the chair had stood too close to the fire. And a hint of potions ingredients. This must be Professor Snape’s favourite chair.
Another deep breath. It didn’t help. Her stomach was tied into knots. I need to calm down, Alina thought. How will I sleep if I’m so jittery? Oh, Jesus, Merlin and Dr. Who on a piece of pizza, they’ll all be flipping, flaming angry. If I make it, Mum will skin me alive.
A bizarre thought struck her and she couldn’t bite back a hysterical giggle.
‘Young Miss is all right?’ A frowning Winky materialised in front of Alina.
‘Yes. No.’ Alina shook her head helplessly. ‘I was just thinking that I’ll get royally reamed by Professor Snape no matter if I live or die.’
Winky nodded solemnly.
Suddenlythe agitation drained away from her. She felt calm. At peace. She lay on her side, the head on the armrest, her right arm in front of her body.
‘Woodstock?’ she called softly to the young phoenix who was sitting on her stand and waiting patiently. ‘What do you think of a nap?’
The phoenix ruffled her feathers, then spread her wings. In the small room Woodstock ended up hopping, rather than flying over. Cocking her head, the phoenix regarded Alina for a moment. Then she voiced a reassuring trill and carefully, deliberately climbed Alina’s right arm.
The phoenix smelt of spices and herbs, of soft feathers and desert sun. Harry, Alina thought. Professor Snape. I’m coming. Her eyes drifted shut in dreams of cinnamon and amber.
oooOooo
Twisted to his back, Severus’ left arm had long since grown numb. The bridge across the Fifth Precinct was too narrow for two men to walk side by side—and they were both far too exhausted to risk cutting the magical ties that bound them to each other.
Another step. And another. Death didn’t matter anymore. Life had become irrelevant.
All that mattered was the next step, the next step on a barely visible bridge that existed only because his magic told it to. And his magic was faltering. Had it always taken so long to cross the Fifth Precinct? Or did the bone-deep exhaustion make it seem longer than it really was? Or did Death or magic react to their weariness and increase the distance with every step they took? It was possible.
But he didn’t care. He just took the next step. And the next. And the next.
And then—
they fell.
They plunged into the river, limbs flailing. Their robes wrapped around thrashing legs, the weight of the water-logged fabric dragged them down, under the surface. For a moment the icy temperature of the water and the shock of the fall cleared his mind in a desperate rush of adrenaline.
Sputtering and coughing, they reached the surface again. Harry had lost his glasses, he was blinking hard and squeezing his eyes, as he fought to stay afloat.
‘What—’ Harry coughed again. ‘—the hell happened?’
Severus felt as if his throat had been sanded down inside. Pain twisted his stomach. He gagged, fighting down a sudden bout of nausea. I must have swallowed a lot of water going under, he thought, almost resignedly.
‘Do you still have the sword?’ he asked, ignoring Harry’s question.
‘Yes,’ the younger man rasped. ‘And I almost wish I didn’t. It’s weighing me down better than a fucking anchor.’
Somehow they managed to synchronise their frantic efforts to keep swimming.
‘Unsheathe it,’ Severus choked out.
‘You mean, just drop it?’
‘No -’ A clumsy, one-armed stroke almost made him go underwater again. ‘Hoping to give you mercy—’
‘What?’
‘This—is the water—that turns—the dead—’ He gasped, gurgled, coughed, as water shot up his nose, but he forced himself to continue. ‘—turns them—like—Voldemort. I-can-still-send-you-safely-beyond-the-Ninth-Gate-I-think-but-not-much-longer—’
They had been treading water only for a few minutes, if that. And already the little strength he had left was waning. Worse, he could sense how his magic, the power residing in the very core of his soul, was beginning to shift, to change, to metamorphose. If they lasted much longer, they would wish to have died while they still could.
Only by then it would be too late.
oooOooo
It was three in the morning, and all surviving members of the Weasley clan were gathered in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Ron was still unconscious. Lois had been given a sleeping draught and lay in an adjoining guestroom.
There were no news of Harry or Severus.
There was no trace of Hermione.
Molly sat perched on the edge of her chair, her gaze fixed on the door of Ron’s room. Arthur and Bill were standing at the window, looking out into the darkness of the wee hours. Fleur and Percy were seated at the table, their cups of tea long since gone cold. Outside, Ginny could hear Charlie keeping George company, as he paced the hallway.
Ginny herself was beyond pacing. She’d even stopped asking ‘what if’-questions. At least out loud. What if she’d been there? Could she have prevented Ron being shot and Splinched? Could she have saved Hermione? By now Ginny simply huddled in her chair and stared at the fire, waiting for the Floo to turn green, for Harry to stumble out of the flames and into her arms.
But nothing happened.
oooOooo
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I’m reminded very strongly of Sam and Frodo making their way up Mount Doom. 🙂
Ha! 😀 I’ll take that as a compliment. But yes, a long dark way it is indeed that they have to go…
Thank you for reading and for taking the time to leave a comment. 🙂
Small Mercies
‘ Why is it that every time Dumbledore is wrong, something like a cosmic calamity occurs?’
Because he thinks he is almighty! Arrogant bastard.
I’m thinking that Severus is weaker than Harry because the spell was broken. The Guys in Black knew what they were doing. Very well informed they are!
The X of the Equation
But Alina does not have the bells with her. They are with Snape…what is she going to do?
The End of Happiness
I really don’t like that title.
Ah..Draco! He can go there! …He should go…and stay!
Passing from One Bad Dream to Another
Oh dear. Death’s generosity! I don’t wantz it!
…And the River is Deep…
Those kids are smart! But the Knight Bus? it can go inside Hogwarts? It’s a good thing the Death Eaters never thought about that! lol
Did Harry Potter just said…you-know-who?…oh…ohhhhh!
The Sixth Precinct
Does that Dead creature attacking Severus because it knows him or because Severus is the Necromancer and the one with the knowledge?
And i love the way Harry is so strong and quick to action here. Severus is definitely very affected.
*goez read more*
Dark Dreams
ohhhhhhhhhh!
” I’ll be back”
Unkissed
“the house-elf was dressed in a miniature version of a Victorian maid’s dress, down to the starched apron.”
HAHAHAHAHAHA!
Go Alina… he needs you!
She is brave ,that little one. And where the hell is Draco?
Mercy
‘Oh, Jesus, Merlin and Dr. Who on a piece of pizza’ nothing will ever be the same again, will it?